In One's Own Mind
by Mickeymouse4everz
Summary: In one's own mind, that's where many dangerous things live. While most people's minds can be sunshine and rainbows, in others' minds, maybe not. Some minds can be corrupt, and dark. Most would act happy on the outside, and go home and want to kill yourself, but some people take it too far. Their minds are too corrupted. There is no stopping it.


A/N: A random one-shot I came up with. I don't own South Park, Kyle's POV blah blah blah READ THE GODDAMN STORY

* * *

"I can't believe this." I whispered to Stan as we stood outside the caution tape with Cartman and Kenny.

"I can't believe that the little fag actually killed someone..." Stan whispered back.

"I can't believe it's not butter!" Cartman said and snorted. Kenny promptly whacked him.

"It is though!" Kenny said "Just with an 's' on the end." I glared at both of them.

"This is some serious shit guys, stop with the crap already." I said. Butters' mom came running out of the house, crying as the police stormed in. Butters stood off to the side, a blood-covered knife in hands, and a murderous look in his eyes as the police carted Butters' dad's dead body away to the parademics.

The boys watched as a paramedic guy walked up to Butters. "Why?" was all the guy asked as he snatched the knife away.

"I got real fucking tired of my dad. And I killed him." Butters smiled, despite half of him being covered in his dad's blood.

"We're going to check you into the Murdock's Mental Insitution okay?" The paramedic said calmly. (A/N: I made the Institution up)

"YOU CAN'T PUT ME IN A GODDAMN ASYLUM!" Butters screamed, and the paramedic clapped a hand over the blonde boy's mouth.

"Ssshhh," the guy hushed, "There isn't any sense trying to get out of it." The paramedic said. All of a sudden, a big white van that said "Murdock's Mental Institution" pulled up, and the guy forced Butters in.

"That's taken care of." The paramedic guy said, and he walked towards Butters' mom. "Sweetie, you're going to come with us okay?" Butters' mom shakily nodded yes, and they drove away. The police left shortly after that, and the crowd slowly started to disperse.

Only me, Stan, Kenny and Cartman were still here after ten minutes.

"I really just can't believe it." I said in shock. Stan shoved his hands into his jacket.

"What the hell made him snap?" Kenny asked.

"Who knew the fag had it in him?" Cartman remarked, earning more glares from us. He shrugged. "Fine, screw you guys, I'm going home." Cartman started to waddle away.

"I guess I'll see you guys in school tomorrow." Stan suggested. Kenny and I nodded.

"See you." Kenny walked away too.

_What made him snap?_

* * *

**Butters' POV**

They ushered me into the building, and a feeling of dread washed over me, along with the immediate guilt I felt after I stabbed my dad...repeatedly...

"Patient #202? Follow me to your room, and we'll provide you some clean clothes and a nice meal." The lady said and stood up. Against my will, I followed her.

She led me to a room, and when we stepped inside, practically everything was white. White walls, a white bed with white sheets, a white dresser, and a white carpet. The room itself was relatively small, about a bit smaller than my bedroom at home.

"I'll be right back with your new outfit!" She said in a fake cheery voice and I squinted at my new supposed room. Cautiously, I stepped over to the dresser and opened it. Of course, nothing was inside. I don't know what I expected.

I wish I could take it back. I mean, I'm glad I murdered my father, but I feel guilty too. I could've just tried to talk things out with him...well, the past is the past, even if the past was about twenty minutes ago.

"Here you go!" The lady said, handing me a white dress.

"Do you really expect me to wear that?" I said, eying the white thing.

"Honey, everyone has to wear this," She said, shoving the white dress into my face. "See you at dinner!" She walked out of my room, but walked back in. "I would suggest for you to kinda get familiar with this room." She walked back out again.

Reluctantly, I changed into the dress thing, and I laid down on the bed. Just this morning, my (now deceased) dad was yelling at me to get out of bed and get ready for school. Now look at me, I'm sitting in a mental hospital, ready to waste my life away.

A minute hadn't even gone by until I started to get super bored. I didn't really want to be here. I didn't want to be at home, I didn't want to be at school, I didn't want to be _here_, on Earth. Sighing, I got off the bed and started searching around for something to kill myself with. Would it be possible to close a dresser drawer too hard on your head and would that kill you? I tried doing that, and I ended up getting a huge forehead gash from that thing!

That was why I snuck out into the halls. Maybe there would at least be a pocket knife here or something. I made my way around without getting caught, and a glint came from the kitchen. I smiled. A knife. Just what I was looking for!

I grabbed the knife and ran quickly back to my room. That was when I started to realize maybe that wasn't the best option. Such a shame that I slit my throat before realizing that.

* * *

A/N: I CAN'T EVEN WRITE A GODDAMN STORY WITHOUT KILLING OFF A CHARACTER XD! Maybe I'm the one who should get some help :P.

_Until next time my fellow South Parkers._


End file.
